


don't have enough candles to keep lighting the way home

by sandyk



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: 16 year olds have sex with each other, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12 weeks on a boat, 1 day at home. (AU for the summer between s3 and s4, in which Pacey and Joey  talk and have sex.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> notes: not mine, no profit garnered. Title from the poem The Weather Radio by Caroline Crew. At the time this story takes place, Pacey is 18 and Joey is 17. For the trope bingo square first time/last time. Thanks to A for help, all mistakes mine.

The actual reality everyone has to face is boys are gross. The sad, horrifying reality is that boys in close quarters are worse. There's farting and belching, and just general grossness. It's not like girls aren't gross, it's just, Joey thinks, girls hide those things. 

Except on a boat, you really can't. It hits her right on day one when she goes to use the bathroom after Pacey. The smell. She gags and wonders what she's thinking. 

There is zero chance Pacey has tampons on board, she realizes.

The farting and belching are also on day one. He pokes her thigh with his bare foot. He says, "Everyone does it, Potter. I know you do it, I've known you long enough to know that."

The sunset is gorgeous. Every word she thinks of to describe it is cliche so she just watches and tries not to think. She tries to memorize this moment of beauty and calm and near serenity. 

Pacey sits next to her and says, "You are so scared right now."

"So're you," she says, smiling at him. 

"Absolutely," he says. 

She kisses him, he kisses back. Her heart pounds as she thinks that there is nowhere to go when it's time to stop. She stops and he stops immediately. He sits back and says, "Don't worry." 

Because it's Pacey, he already knows what's in her heart. And just like that, she's fine.

Day two, she forces him into port. "I need everything, Pacey. I mean everything. Every little thing that girls need that you do not have on this boat." They manage to get it all pretty cheap. Pacey peels bills off his wad of cash and doesn't blink at the tampons. Good man, she thinks. She says, as they walk out, "Where'd the money come from? Rob a bank?"

"Shhhh," he says. "Don't say that so loudly, they're still looking for me."

"Okay, Clyde," she says. 

"You're the best, Bonnie," he says, kissing her. "But it's not as much as it looks. We are absolutely guaranteed going to run out in about a month at this rate."

"I won't need to buy clothes at every single stop," she says.

"Yeah, I figured that, by the way, when I said a month," he says. "Basic addition and subtraction even I can manage."

"What was your plan three days ago when you were running away from everything including me?"

"Three days ago I had enough money to make it about three months if I skipped a few meals, cheated a few other things," he says. "Don't worry about it, we'll just get jobs."

"Doesn't that defeat the whole spend the summer on the boat idea?" She smiles at him. She is silently praying he has thought this through. 

"Ah, I see that fear in your eyes, missy. You think we're going to Florida and getting a job in a very humid factory with no union and no one to protect when you inevitably sass your supervisor. But no, just for a few days, as we get further south a lot of these spots will hire you for a few days and pay in cash," he says, confidently.

"You're sure?"

"I am positive, Bonnie," he says. "Pacey did research."

"You looked things up, in books? Did the books have pictures? Did they only have pictures?"

"That was just one of my many sources," he says. "I also looked at magazines and newspapers on microfiche." He makes the turning gesture with his free hand. 

"What kind of magazines? How much time did you spend looking at the pictures in these magazines?" 

He kisses her again. 

They watch the stars after the sun sets. After a long stretch of comfortable silence, Pacey says, "Cards on the table, Joey, I never thought you'd come. I am not the guy who gets the girl, as you well know."

"Except for that time you did," she says. 

"I'm saying, I have no plan, I didn't think about company and I have no idea what we're doing," he says. He adds, "I have no expectations, either."

She gets what he's saying. She thinks there's value in being direct. They are going to be farting in front of each other now, apparently. She says, "I know right now there's only so much further than chastely kissing I want to go, but I also know that will probably change. I mean, it's inevitable, right? On a boat together for three months, of course we'll have sex." She thinks she sounds angry, but she isn't. She hears her fear of what Dawson is already thinking in her tone. 

"Not if you don't want to," Pacey says, mildly. "It's not inevitable and I'm okay, I am more than okay if you don't want to ever have sex, okay, or just do more than chastely kiss in the next three months, okay?"

"You just used up the word okay," Joey says. "I think you have officially worn out the word."

"You could just answer, you know," he says. 

"I am okay," she says, grinning. "Thank you. I believe you."

"Thank you," he says. "I'm glad you're okay."

She likes having her own toothbrush. There's only so many things you can share with a person. They use the same sunscreen, they eat the same meals. She also likes having her own deodorant but around day four she says, "You've just given up on the basic principles of hygiene, haven't you?"

"No," he says. "I wash my hands, I swear. At least once or twice a day."

"You're not using deodorant, are you?"

"Really?" He is adjusting the sails, moving deftly. "You think that's a basic principle of hygiene when you're at sea?"

"It's a nice gesture to people who can smell you," she says.

"Really?" He looks at her, stopping in his task. He's been splashed already and his shorts are wet and clinging. He isn't wearing a shirt because it's hot and she can fill in his shape to imagine him naked. It's not the first time she's thought about it, not by a million thoughts, but it feels like the first time. She swallows. Why is she so afraid to do more than think? Dawson would have a theory and the two of them would argue and use big words and utilize their encyclopedic knowledge of each other's history and dreams to nail down a reason. Maybe that's the reason, she thinks. Maybe the reason is a lifetime of talking everything out and not doing.

"You're right," she says. 

He goes back to work and then sits down next to her. "I won that argument far too easily, tell me what I did so I can do it again. And again, every time."

She smiles at him. "You made a good point. You don't do that often, I would actually appreciate it if you would do that more, please. That bright light of logic and reason was visible for once."

At their second stop, she will admit she nags and cajoles until Pacey gives in and they spend the night in a very cheap motel an easy walk from the pier. The place is every cliche in every horror movie or tv crime procedural so it's pretty clear they'll both be dead by morning.

They lay together on a lumpy mattress which still feels pretty great compared to the boat. She says, "I am not the greatest at roughing it."

"I like that about you," Pacey says. "When you admit you're not good at something, it makes you more attractive. Also, for once the the ultimate tomboy acts like a girl." 

"I know lots of men who can't rough it to save their lives, it is not a girl quality," she says.

"More girl than guy," Pacey says. 

"Your male chauvinistic tendencies are not attractive," she says. 

"More or less than the deodorant thing?" They are lying side by side, facing each other, a foot of space between them under the scratchy blanket and thin sheets. 

"More unattractive," she says.

"Cause you love my smell," Pacey says. 

"Stockholm syndrome," Joey says. She feels no fear for once. She isn't sure how this bright shining moment of the absence of fear has happened. It's not courage. It's quiet in her head, no one saying anything about how she's being bad, about how she should be bad, about how she's frigid or waiting to be a slut.

A few minutes later there is no space between them. They kiss fervently like they haven't seen each other in days. They make out every day, often two or three times, but right now, in this slightly creepy motel with paper thin sheets and blankets that drag on her skin, she wants him. She loves him. 

He runs his hand up and down her side, waist to ribs and back and she wants much more. She reaches for him and pushes his hand up under her tank top to her breast. She loves his hands, the way he always touches her face, her head in hand. He says, "Okay?"

She thinks she told him to stop using that word. She says, "I put your hand there, mister." 

She leans back a little and takes off her tank top, throwing it somewhere on the floor. She is going to wash it before she puts it back on. Possibly burn it. 

The things Pacey does with his hands and mouth on her breasts make lightning bolts sizzle down her to between her legs. She feels so good. She wants this and more and she wants him and he inspires her to do these things. Which she doesn't regret. She wants to be more of herself. 

She reaches down and grips his penis. He is panting and out of breath. He says, "Joey."

She says, "Show me. What you like." 

His hand covers her and guides her until his hand falls away and she judges by the way he says her name whether he's happy or very happy. He says, "This is, it's a mess," and it is. She tried not to squeal at the stickiness on her stomach and chest. This is a personal first, first time with that on her body. 

Joey gets her tank top off the floor, wiping them both sort of clean. Pacey takes it out of her hands and throws it back on the floor. He licks her clean. It should be gross but it's the opposite. He looks up at her and she holds the back of his head. She says, "I love you."

"Me, too," he says. She is pressed against him, her bare breasts on his chest. 

She says, "When I was in fourth grade, some sixth grader told me a blowjob is when a boy pees into a girl's mouth."

Pacey laughs. 

"I was of course too embarrassed to ask either of my parents if it were true, so I asked Gail," Joey says. It is the closest either of them have come to mentioning Dawson. "She laughed just like you. Then she tried to figure out how much I actually knew about sex --"

"Which was only what you'd seen in those dirty magazines Dawson and I had," Pacey says. It's weird he says the name first.

"You had," Joey says. "And they were not very informative, frankly. So Gail just explained there was no peeing in sex."

"That's what you think of tonight," he says. 

She sleeps easily. She wakes up with the sheet and blanket shoved down around her waist. Pacey is still asleep, laying on his stomach, one arm across her, warm and heavy. She touches her breasts, idly. It's weird how at ease she feels. Weird for Joey from Capeside, the prude who hates sex. She doesn't hate any of this. She feels beautiful, like she can see herself how Pacey sees her. 

Joey wakes Pacey up. She says, "Guess what? Despite your expected expectations, I am awake and don't regret a thing about last night. We could do it again right now."

He kisses her quickly. He says, "That's great, but honestly, I really have to pee." He's up and out of bed very quickly. 

When he gets out of the bathroom, he says, "I had no expectations, Joey. I told you, and I meant it. Also, just because we do something one time doesn't mean we have to do it again. You never have to do anything to make me happy because I am happy you are here and that is enough."

She smiles at him. "I know, I swear."

They don't do anything more that morning. She throws away the tank top. 

They're at sea for the next three days and all they do is kiss. Pacey is a gentleman who never initiates anything. Sometimes she gets frustrated. But mostly she likes it, it's a rare thing in a sexed up world. Then she wonders why she ignores her own frustration. What is so wrong about wanting to feel good with someone you trust, someone you love? She's hardly throwing herself at some guy she barely knows, she's with Pacey. 

She feels bad that she never felt like this with Dawson, which is clearly something she can never share with Pacey. It's not like she never felt desire with Dawson but everything was tied up in the depth of their feelings and he is just as inexperienced as she is. So basically even if she had felt like going further with Dawson, it wouldn't have happened without 3 hours of analysis. Now Joey has spent more time than 3 hours staring out at the ocean and thinking about this, just without Dawson to bounce off and make her feel inferior.

Pacey doesn't make her feel inferior. Even if Dawson didn't mean to make her feel inferior, it's still the effect of the way Dawson is. 

A day before they're going to stop again, it rains. It's not a dangerous rain, it only drives them inside. It's sweltering, though. "Sweltering," she says. She takes off her shirt, and blots the sweat on her chest and neck. Pacey is staring at her, his mouth hanging open. 

She isn't wearing a bra, so she gets it. She pushes off her shorts so she's only wearing her cheap, plain, white underwear. She sits up straight, best posture of her life, and smiles at him. 

"So I take it you want to make out?" Pacey sounds remarkably calm. But he's wiping his hands on his shorts. 

"Yeah," she says, an edge of sarcasm in her voice.

He pins her on the cushions on the floor. She feels powerful when she makes him incoherent with what she assumes is a pretty clumsy handjob. Maybe she's better than that. It's only her second time doing it. 

A week later, she's done it five more times and she likes to think is actually okay at it. She is getting to know Pacey's body. She alternates between fear and worry and joy and lust. Pacey is the same. He is waiting, she knows, for her to want off the boat, to go back to Dawson. She worries she will do it, too, because she is afraid.

They talk about all sort of things but so far they have not talked about sex or if it means something that she has seen him naked and held his penis in her hand. 

She reads. At their last two stops, she went to thrift store and bought books for 50 cents each. A lot of them are very bad. She reads the worst parts out loud to Pacey. He does the work of sailing and fishes every day. 

One early early morning, Pacey says, "Why haven't you read anything out loud from that romance novel? Seems like the kind of thing you would normally find hilarious."

They always sleep pushed together now. She is used to waking up, feeling him hard against her back or thigh or stomach. She says, "It's very smutty."

"I love smutty," Pacey says. 

"There are no pictures, Pace, just words like rigid and member and her wet center," she says, blushing. 

"Do you ever masturbate?"

She stares at him, a little aghast. A lot aghast. Then she thinks it's incredibly silly to be aghast at that question from Pacey at this point. She says, "No."

"Really?" He looks skeptical.

"I wouldn't even know how," she says. 

"You should have spent more time with my sisters," Pacey says. 

"Gross," she says. 

"Gross is listening to your older sister discover her special spot, gross is finding another sister's vibrator," Pacey says.

"If you're trying to make me think this is something I should try, it's not working," she says.

"Trust me, guys all do it. And a lot of girls, they just don't admit it," Pacey says. "They do it because it feels great."

"I'm so happy for you," Joey says. "Have you been jerking off a lot while we've been at sea?"

"I'm just wondering why you're not," he says. "Not actually wondering."

"Wishing?"

"You're not religious, so why not give it a whirl?" 

She takes a deep breath. Pacey is somewhere between teasing and genuinely talking to her. Which she admits is his default state. She realizes in this case the teasing tone is so she won't feel too embarrassed. It's a kindness typical of him. But she has been sitting on this back and forth in her head, a cacophony of judgment. She says, "Because my life isn't all about feeling good, maybe, or centered on how happy my vagina feels?"

Pacey says, "That's not a wild overreaction at all. Does your smutty book's heroine masturbate?"

"Yes," she says. "But she's very slutty for a pastor's daughter in Victorian England."

"You're not slutty," he says. He gets up and says, "I'm going to hit the head."

"And masturbate?" She can't look at him when she says it which is ridiculous. 

He doesn't answer and she hears the door close. 

She gets dressed and brushes her teeth out on the deck. Pacey brings her breakfast and they eat in silence. Then he says, "Look, we've got all this time. Seriously, let's talk about sex, baby."

She says, "Okay, you start."

"Why do you act like sex is such an apocalyptic thing?"

"I obviously don't all the time," she says.

"No, I appreciate that, really. But there are girls who aren't jumping into bed with every Tom, Rick and Larry who still have sex before they're married or have their PhDs," Pacey says.

"I just get tired of how it's all everyone talks about," Joey says.

"That's not true," Pacey says. "You get angry about it. I mean, okay, question, do you think it's awful and wrong that Andie and I had sex?"

"That's different," she says. 

"So not awful and wrong," he says. "Thank you again. But if you do it, it is."

She looks out at the ocean. "I'm sorry I didn't start my sexual awakening being abused by decades older teacher so I could have the kind of wisdom you have."

"Wow," Pacey says. "Seriously? You honestly think that?"

"If I had lost my virginity at age 15 to a 35 year old teacher, you wouldn't call that wrong?"

"If *you* had," Pacey says. "It's different for girls."

"Why?"

"Do you not think it's different?"

"You act like I'm such a freak and hypocrite for not wanting to have sex all the time and you don't see how it's different for girls is a factor of that?" Part of her wants to cry. She wishes she could walk into this as easily as Andie had. But she is afraid and she is totally tired of feeling like that makes her somehow wrong. 

"So society says sex is bad for women and not for guys --"

"Women get pregnant," Joey says. 

"There are ways to not have that happen," he says. 

"The only 100% effective birth control method is abstinence," Joey says. "Do you think Alexander was planned?"

"So this, part of this, is about not wanting to end up like Bessie?" Pacey is frowning.

"What a surprise, I don't want to be stuck in Capeside, I want to get out and I know I can't if I have a kid or something. You act like it's nothing but it's not," Joey says.

"I have never said sex is nothing," Pacey says. "That's not how I see it at all."

"It's not just fun and jollies," Joey says. 

"Obviously, it's not just that to me. I couldn't even make it work with Jen as casual sex so basically I have never even had sex casually. And you'll say all these things about sex to me right now even though you clearly want to do more than chastely kiss, like, am I the villain here for wanting to have that connection with you?" He stands up and stalks over to the sail. 

She rubs at her eyes. These conversations always spiral away from her. She wishes she could find clarity before she gets defensive and automatically fighting back when she doesn't need to. 

She goes up to him, embraces him from behind. She says, "I love you," her forehead against the back of his head. 

His left arm on top of her arms, he says, "That doesn't sound like sorry, Jo."

She smiles. "I love you for that."

"Really?"

"I love that you challenge me and don't let me just yell at you," she says. "I'm sorry my first reaction is always to attack instead of admitting I'm scared."

"I could do with less of that, you know, being attacked," he says. "I know I'm an asshole sometimes, but not all the time."

"Not even most of the time," she says. She likes talking to his back. "I never had friends like Andie or Jen until this past year, I was always one of the boys as you know, and I barely wanted to be a girl because everything is so scary. And yes, Bessie got pregnant and that seemed like a huge disaster. She would slap me if I said that to her. Maybe she would be right. And it is different for girls, everyone judges you, don't be too eager, don't be frigid, you should think about sex in exactly the right amount, which is less than a slut, less than a boy but more than some sexless child."

He turns around and kisses her. Then she is enveloped in his arms. She says, "And I think about it all the time. All the time. And part of me is yelling at the other part of me to stop thinking about it and concentrate on things that really matter and part of me is just trying to be good and I want to live up to something and I don't even know what that is." Then she is really crying. 

After a few minutes, he says, "I think this talk went well."

She laughs at him like he wants. 

Hours and hours later when they're in bed, she pushes his hand into her panties. She says, "I love you." She doesn't feel scared and she doesn't cry. She feels on fire and she is pretty sure she has her first orgasm ever. 

She tallies it up, laying on the deck; first handjob, first orgasm, first time someone touched her under her panties. She sounds like a baby thinking of it like that. It's not like they spend all their time making out, but it's not an insignificant amount of time. They talk, he sails and gets her to help, they read. They make out. 

It's been a month and as Pacey predicted, they are nearly out of cash. But he also correctly predicts that they can get jobs. "I do love being a waitress," she says to him. 

"You're so good at being charming," he says with a smirk. He washes dishes. 

She is already profoundly tired of seafood. And anything from a can. She leaves the books she read at Goodwill and buys another box of paperbacks. Their last night on the South Carolina coast, she waits for Pacey as he finishes up washing dishes. His partner in cleaning dishes offers her an introductory Portuguese textbook. "Look at her," Pacey says, smiling at her. "She's nearly squealing."

"I like to learn," she says. 

Somewhere on the walk back to the boat, Pacey kisses her and she tastes beer. "Have you been drinking?"

"One beer," he says. "I said no to the cigarettes."

She laughs. He looks around and then presses her against the wall. He sinks slowly to his knees and then he pushes up her skirt. She says, "What are you doing?"

"Something you'll like," he says. "Try not to be too loud."

She has to bite her hand to stay quiet because she thought his fingers and his hand felt amazing but adding his mouth and his tongue and she is pretty sure she will take off like a rocket. It is so good. It is amazing and she silently thanks Miss Jacobs as loathsome and awful as she thinks that woman is because no way he learned that with Andie. Though Andie loves research and practice. She tries to piece her mind and body together again.

She is barely standing, only Pacey standing up and pressing her against the wall keeping her up. "I liked," she says. 

He says, "I gathered."

She can feel how hard he is against her hip. She says, "Should I reciprocate?"

"Look, like every red blooded male, I love blowjobs, but if you don't want to, we can definitely try it some other time. We should try any other time than now because we are three blocks from the boat. Also, Andie hated doing it so we actually only did it, like twice --"

She kisses him. He tastes funny and she thinks, that is her. In his mouth. She says, "Handjob it is." He laughs and it tickles her. 

He stops when Joey puts her hand down his shorts. For some reason he has her panties in his hand, she notices as he braces himself against the wall, pulling a little away from her. When she can tell he's close, she grabs the panties from his hand so he can come in them. "Fuck, that's hot," he says. 

She laughs because boys are so gross but she loves him. Once Pacey is zipped up, they start walking again, holding hands. She throws the panties away in the first trash can she sees. "Why were you laughing at me?"

"I don't find your underwear at all hot and I would not want it near me like that," she says. 

"It's different for boys," he says, kissing her hand. 

Six weeks out, the probable middle point of their adventure, Pacey irks her. He is effortlessly better than her at learning Portuguese. He gets the grammar, his pronunciation is probably perfect and when they practice together he always does better. She says, "How are you nearly flunking out of high school?"

"Hey," he says. "I do well with pretty teachers." 

"Except I'm not teaching," she says. 

"Intellectual jealousy is not a good look on you, Potter," he says. 

Another way Pacey is irksome is whatever fires of hell live in the boy's bowels, he stinks up the bathroom so much, nearly every day. She says, "Is something wrong with you?"

"I'm a growing boy," Pacey says.

"Something is growing in you," she says. "It does not smell pleasant."

"Soorrrry," he says like a five year old. 

He is frequently irritated with her and he pouts like a toddler. She reads one of her thrift store books and mentions Dawson would love it and he spends the day acting like she is about to break up with him.


	2. Chapter 2

One morning Joey wakes up and Pacey is swearing loudly and backing away from her. She looks down and sees she's gotten her period starting with a heavy day. Pacey is freaking out about the blood on his legs which isn't even that much. She says, "I got my period, stop freaking out."

"You bled all over me," he says. "You make me feel like some diseased monster for pooping and you just casually bleed all over me." 

"It's not like I have any control over this, God, grow up," she says, storming into the bathroom, the only door she can close on this whole boat. There's only one tampon in this tiny space, so she will need to put more in here. 

She walks out and puts on clean underwear, thick jean shorts cut an inch below her vagina, and one Pacey's shirts. He is somewhere up on the boat, storming around. She decides to stay down below and cleans up the mess she's made. She sits cross legged on the floor, reading their intro to Portuguese textbook. She makes notes for no reason. 

One minute she is angry then bitter, like, how does a boy with three sisters freak out so much about a period and then she's mean, in her head, about how often Pacey tries to play the my family is so awful card but obviously he was pampered in a lot of ways. She wonders if he's over being angry yet. 

One minute later she is apologetic, she's a bitch to him all the time. Pacey's family is awful to him and it's probably 75% of the reason he acts like he's worthless all the time. If he were a girl, she wouldn't be surprised an older teacher found him perfect to prey on. If he were a girl, everyone would have just nodded and said, of course that pervert is sleeping with her, obvious victim. 

She is being mean again. She is mean to everyone. 

She can't remember who apologized first last time they had an argument. She shouldn't keep track. Joey gets up and goes above deck. Pacey is predictably sitting at the front of the boat, staring at the steps she is walking up. She sits down across from him, her knees touching his. 

He says, "Do you want to go home?" He has that pout slash angry jaw clench expression. When he has it at other people, she worries he will do something incredibly stupid and try to beat them up. He would never do that to her, not ever, so she just stews.

"Of course not," she says. "We're in incredibly close quarters, of course we're going to argue. I'm surprised we haven't exploded at each other more."

Now he looks hurt and she feels like she stabbed a puppy. "I know you didn't plan to do this and it's probably not turning out how you wanted," he says.

She wants to strangle his whole family. And whatever other 25% of the reason is for his low self-esteem. Like she's such a queen of well balanced confident self-love. She says, "I just finished telling you these kind of arguments are kind of exactly what I expected. We're spending every single second together, we're gonna get on each other's nerves."

"Can you," he starts saying, then he plays with the edge of his shorts. 

"Stop being a bitch? Probably not, but I can tone it down," she says, smiling. 

"No, stop being so upset I'm good at Portuguese? It makes me think you're surprised I have a brain," he says. "Also, I'm really over hearing about how my shit smells."

"Oh, Pacey," she says, sitting up. She kisses him, holds him tight to her. "The second time I ever got my period, I was in Dawson's room, you know, sleepovers. He freaked out so much more than you. That's a little gift to you."

"I already knew that," he says, smiling at her. "Who do you think he described it to about 100 times? Also, in his defense, he was 13."

"I can't believe you defended Dawson," she says, smiling at him. 

"On this narrow space of this one issue," he says. 

They make it to the Florida Keys and see Hemingway's home. She steals a brick which is a very bad thing. The next day she uses the card Pacey uses to call his dad and she uses to call Bessie. She calls Dawson. She's ready to leave a message, she's composing it in her head. Dawson is the one who answers. She says, "Hi hi."

"Hi," Dawson says, sounding angry. 

"I wanted to say hi, see how you are?" She looks across the street at Pacey, watching her from the window of a cafe. He knows who she took the card to call.

"I'm great," Dawson says, more anger. 

"You're still angry at me," she says.

"Well, yeah," Dawson says.

"You told me to go. I always want you and I to be friends, Dawson," she says.

"Great," Dawson says. "I appreciate that, Jo. How's your boyfriend?"

"Okay, I get that you're angry, but I was hoping you'd have missed me," Joey says.

"Of course I miss you," Dawson says. "Have you two had sex yet?"

Joey says, "Is that all you want to know?"

"So I take it that's a yes," Dawson says. 

"It's a wow, I can't believe you asked that," she says.

"Aren't we friends?" Dawson says.

"We're not that kind of friends," Joey says. "If I let you talk to me like this, will you be nicer to me next time I call?"

"Should I?"

"Yes," Joey says. "Bye, Dawson, great to talk to you." She hangs up. 

Pacey is making a face when she gets in the cafe. It is not his most attractive face. She sits down across from him and says, "Don't you start on me."

"Are you gonna call him again?" 

"Probably," Joey says. "He's important to me. I know you know that."

"Fine," Pacey says. "Fine."

She sighs. "Can we talk about something else?"

"You pick," he says.

"Did you find that Portuguese to English dictionary?"

"I did," he says. "And a few novels in Portuguese, too."

"I am actually looking forward to this," she says. "It'll be fun."

Pacey finally smiles. "I hope one of them is a dirty book."

"Of course you do," she says.

They work more. Pacey comes by after she finishes work, and they sway to the music coming from a club. "You don't dance," she says.

"I make exceptions for you," Pacey says. His arm is tight around her waist. 

"How many beers this time?" She runs her hand through his hair. 

"None," he says. "By the way, I'm thinking of getting a serious buzz cut."

She makes a pouty face. "I like your hair."

"It will grow back, which is one of the amazing things about hair," he says. "It just gets so gross."

"Do you think my hair gets gross?"

"Nope," he says. They dance in a little circle by the neon lights. 

Two days later she goes to the local drugstore and buys condoms. She shoves them in the bag with her new box of tampons. She buys her own long distance calling card. 

Dawson is home this time, too. She says, "Can we talk like people who like each other?"

"Maybe I don't like you," Dawson says. "You broke me heart."

"I never wanted to do that," Joey says. "You know how hard this was for me."

"And now you're off having a great time and I'm back here, dumped."

"I'll be back," she says. "We can be friends. We are friends."

"I appreciate the effort," Dawson says.

"Doesn't sound like it," Joey says. 

"I'm sorry my tone offends you," Dawson says.

"Are we going to talk like this when I get back?"

"Probably," Dawson says. "You don't get to dictate how I get over what happened."

"No," she says. "But I will keep trying."

"I do appreciate that," he says. She believes him this time. 

"Bye," she says. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Dawson says.

She works as a waitress again. She deals with the usual asshole customers and nice people and bored people and rude people like when she's back at Capeside. Some things are universal. She walks back to the boat and Pacey is already asleep. "Wake up," she says.

"You come to sleep," he says, pulling her down. 

"Next time we get jobs with the same hours," she says. 

They sail away the next morning. They spend the day reading one of the Portuguese novels. It is indeed a dirty book. "I think this would be more erotic if we weren't looking up every fourth word," Joey says. 

"We're learning important phrases," Pacey says. He says, "I want to lick you from head to toe," in Portuguese and it sounds incredibly sexy. 

She moves closer to him. She says, "You know what, reading this book reminds me vagina is not a sexy word."

"You don't like any of the other words," he says. 

"I really don't," she says. "I don't find a lot of the words for genitals sexy, male or female. Or genitals, that is not a sexy word." 

After the sun sets, Pacey brings out a blanket for them to lie on. She goes into her bag and brings one of the condoms out with her. She sits on the blanket and puts the condom next to him. 

"Hey," he says. "Whoa."

"I've thought about it a lot," she says. "A lot."

"I believe you, I just want to make sure."

"Are you sure you want to? We never talk about that," Joey says. "We never talk about what you want."

Pacey says,"I want to, of course. Sex is connecting and love and awesome with the right person and you are definitely that person for me."

"Why does that sound so cheesy?" She smiles. 

"Because we spent the day reading a cheesy dirty book," Pacey says. 

"I love you. I want to make love," she says. "I feel sure."

"Will you be sure tomorrow? We can't exactly take a break from each other," he says.

"I don't know," she says. "But I don't think I will."

"You don't think so? This is a big thing, maybe you should be more sure," he says.

"How sure do I need to be? I'm very very very very sure and I'm very very very over feeling like this is so important and so celestial that only with a sign from God and an eagle descending from the heavens playing a trumpet telling me to do it can I possibly decide to have sex with the guy I very much want to."

"An eagle playing a trumpet?" He smiles at her like she is the most amazing person ever and he is absolutely the right guy to do this with. 

He kisses her for a very long time. He undresses her reverently and he touches her like she is someone to worship. She shivers but not from the cold. She doesn't even know when he got undressed but he is and then he's on top of her, kissing her. His mouth is on her breasts and stomach and then further. He spreads her legs and then he makes her come. Every time he goes down on her, she feels like that, that was the most amazing she will ever feel. This is time is even more amazing and she is in heaven. 

He opens the condom and helps her put it on him. Then he's careful and cautious and tender and he is inside her. "Oh," she says. 

"Good?" 

"Yes," she says, adjusting. Everyone ever in her whole life since she knew what sex was told her the first time would hurt and be awful because that is how it is for girls and she waits for it, but nothing hurts. It's uncomfortable and then it isn't and Pacey starts moving and then it's lovely, beautiful. 

When he comes, he makes a completely ridiculous face and she doesn't laugh. He lies on top of her, kissing her jaw. He touches her again and she comes again. She assumes she makes a ridiculous face. 

Pacey comes back after getting rid of the condom. He lays down next to her on the blanket. He says, "How are you?"

"Excellent," she says. "A plus."

"Finally, a good grade," he says. 

In the morning, Pacey says, "We should talk."

"Are you dumping me now that you've got some?" She smiles because she knows he is not. 

"Never ever, silly," he says, kissing her forehead. "But you know, checking in. With you. After that."

"I am still excellent. A little sore, but still excellent," she says. 

"That's not false bravado or covering up for all your fears underneath?" 

"Nope," she says. He has apparently given up on clothes now when they are below deck. She likes the view. She stops herself from saying anything about it because they just had sex, she can certainly put up with some casual nudity. She isn't really putting up with anything per se, not at all. He hurriedly pulls on his shorts and goes above to make sure they're on course and moving in the right direction. 

They eat, they read more dirty things in Portuguese. The ocean is a little rough so they spend a good part of the day doing the hard work of sailing. They fall asleep together without more than a kiss. 

In the morning, though, they do it again. It's still wonderful. After he says, "We don't have to do that every time."

"I know," she says. "It's a little frustrating that you feel like you have to constantly reassure me that you're not going to force me or pressure me, but at the same time I know it's because you love me, so, yes, I know, and you don't need to tell me every single time."

"I will for the next few times, I can pretty much guarantee that," Pacey says. 

They don't have sex all the time, like she almost expected. Sometimes they just kiss, sometimes they just do things with their hands, sometimes he goes down on her, sometimes they have sex, sometimes they do everything. 

She calls Dawson from a payphone in Nagshead. She wants to say that actually, she thinks they were both wrong about sex and it is not bad, it will not change the entire world if they do it. She's been having sex for three weeks and she doesn't feel that different at all. She always thought people who had sex were seeing the world with different eyes but there's nothing changed in her view. Except she isn't giving sex the apocalyptic weight she used to before she had it. She is not going to say that to Dawson. Instead, when he answers, she says, "Hi."

"You haven't called in a bit," Dawson says. "Too busy?"

"I can tell you're angry with me when we talk in short sentences with words of only two syllables," Joey says.

"I guess so," he says. 

"I told you I would keep trying," she says. 

"What does he think about that?"

"He, by which I assume you mean Pacey and not our Lord, knows how important you are and, like you do, loves me enough to let me make my own choices," she says.

"Have we had a lot of conversations about our Lord?" 

"Do I detect a laugh? A chuckle? A chortle?" She smiles. She sees something that resembles a light at the end of the tunnel. 

"A wry snort," he says. 

"A ham on rye snort?"

"Ha ha," he says. "When are you coming home?"

"Probably a few days before school. I hope Capeside High has decided to offer Portuguese because I have now mastered the language," she says.

"Portuguese? Are you trading Lisbon for Paris?"

"Mr. Leery, we are very nearly bantering. And no, Paris is still where I want to go. But basically we got a college textbook intro to Portuguese, so, you know, filling the time," she says. "How are you filling your time?"

Dawson is angry again, she can tell with the way he says his first word. "I have been filling my time working and hanging out with my friends."

"Working where?" 

"Do you actually care?"

"I am the one who called you, I asked the question, do you think I don't care?"

"Jack and I have been painting houses," he says. He sounds drained now. 

"That sounds like good money," she says.

"Yup," he says. "Aren't you running out of minutes?"

"I'm fine," she says. "But if you need to go or you want to go, I won't stop you."

"I do," he says. "Bye," and he hangs up. 

She walks out of the frankly disgusting booth and looks up at the sky. Very cloudy. She walks and runs and walks back to the boat. 

There's a nasty storm so Pacey checks on the radio and steers them out of the worst of it. They stay below deck and pretend they're not scared. Pacey says, "I keep meaning to show you, I got you a present in Charleston." He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a plastic bag wrapped book. 

She pulls it out the plastic and squeals. "You found the intermediate text book," she says. 

"And the tapes," he says. "We've got two weeks or so left, maybe we'll be fluent when we get back to Capeside."

"I think we'd need the advanced book and tapes for that," she says. "Also, maybe trying to talk to a native speaker or something."

"We can't rent a movie because let me tell you, the video store has no Portuguese movies," he says, confidently. They are briefly buffeted by a wave. She reaches for him and he holds her hand. 

She moves forward, close to him, and pulls at his shorts. "You want to make out now?"

She says, "No, I want to have sex now. Is that bad?"

He looks at her with a smile on his face. "It's not bad. It's barely even weird."

He pushes down his shorts, he is just starting to get hard. She retrieves a condom and puts it in his hand. She kisses him as she takes off her shorts and underwear. It's faster than their usual even though Pacey takes his time and makes sure she's ready for him. It's a new ish position for them, her on his lap, straddling him. It's good and amazing. She clings to him after she comes, says, "I keep waiting for it to be bad. Or mediocre."

"Thanks, I think," he says. He carefully shifts her off of him so he can dispose of the condom. He pulls up his pants and goes to check on their location. She gets dressed in fresh panties and the same shorts. He comes back in soaked. "Joey, are you expecting to have bad or mediocre sex with me for a specific reason or just a general sense of pessimism?"

"Both," she says. He sits down across from her. She says, "Yes, a general sense of pessimism. Things can't always be great, the world isn't made that way. Also, specifically, at some point we'll have done this enough I can judge good from bad."

"You think we've already had mediocre or bad sex but you couldn't tell? Because I gotta tell ya, I don't think we have and I can judge," he says. He kisses her. Then he says, "So how is Dawson?"

"Do you really care?"

"I'm not allowed to care? Only you get to care now?" He frowns. 

"Sorry, sorry. It just seemed like you were mad at him," she says.

"I am," he says. "But you know, it would be nice if some day we were talking again, maybe. At least until he finds out we had sex and then he stops talking to me all over again."

"Why wouldn't he blame me for that?" She is feeling rankled by Pacey's assumptions about Dawson and she knows it's because she assumes the same thing.

"He would get over it when it comes to you," he says. "And he thinks less of me, he'd assume you were pressured into it by big bad Pacey."

"I would correct him," she says. "Can we change the subject?"

"Fine," he says. "But. You could say hi for me next time you talk."

She smiles at him. "I will," she says. 

The next time she calls Dawson, though, it's the first time no one answers. She rambles on his answering machine but she does mention Pacey saying hello.

The last time they sleep together on the boat is also the last time they have sex on the boat. "Also, we are out of condoms, so clearly we would have had to stop anyway," he says in the morning.

"That's the reason the summer ends," she says. 

They get off the boat, for the last time. They divide up the books they're keeping but that just means Pacey's book stay on the boat. "You have to come back here if you want to hear those intermediate tapes," Pacey says. 

Bessie is so happy to see her, even though she makes Joey sleep on the couch. They have money now. Or really, they have money enough to cover the mortgage and start paying off their debts so no one can ever take the house from them. 

Bessie doesn't ask her if they had sex. Joey wonders if it's because Bessie can tell and she's disappointed, or she just assumes they did and doesn't want to hear the confirmation. Joey starts to feel the weight on her shoulders again. 

Her next stop is Jen's. She looks over at Dawson's house but doesn't go in. 

Grams is predictably sweet and leaves her and Jen alone. Jen says, "Thank you for the gift."

"The woman swore it was unique and no one else will have that top, but she probably said that to everyone. She also complimented my Portuguese and I know that was a lie," Joey says.

"So you learned Portuguese," Jen says.

"Pacey learned it better," Joey says. 

"Did you learn other things?" Jen has that Jen is no innocent leer. 

Joey frowns. But her options are very limited. She can never talk to Bessie about sex, and while possibly Andie might be nice to talk to, given who Joey is having sex with, it seems like a horrible idea. Talking is a good thing. Not being a total bitch to Jen all the time is a good thing. They could maybe be for real friends. She says, "If we talk about this, I need you to not repeat anything and not be all arch and ironic."

Jen nods, solemnly. "I promise."

Joey bites her lip and realizes she has no idea what to say next. Jen says, "So you had sex?"

"Yup," Joey says.

"Was it good?"

"Oh, yeah," Joey says. 

"I am, frankly, envious. I know very few girls who have that kind of smile when they talk about their first time," Jen says. "Lucky."

"I know," Joey says. "Also, I feel guilty."

"Because it wasn't Dawson?" Jen says it kindly.

"I told you you can't repeat this," Joey says. Then she nods. 

"Well, we both know why that didn't happen," Jen says. "Bad timing, and you two weren't going to be on the same page at the same time on this issue."

"I know that?"

"Sure," Jen says. "Look, I don't mean to be condescending but you and Dawson were always so completely obsessed with this idea of sex that had so very little to do with actual sex."

"I would say that totally sounds condescending, but I think I came to the same conclusion this summer, before I actually did have sex," Joey says. "But now I'm back here and I am having some trouble holding onto my convictions."

"Well, it is Capeside," Jen says. She smiles. "However, I hope you've realized that all those voices in your head, and Dawson's, are, frankly, bullshit. You did nothing wrong. You had presumably safe sex with your boyfriend, who loves you and you love him, and knowing Pacey, with absolutely no pressure on you to do it. It was safe, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Joey says. "It was very safe. And there was no pressure. I swear, I was practically forcing him."

"See? You did good, good man," Jen says. 

Joey nervously plays with her hair. Jen says, "Ask me the question. I can tell you have a question."

Joey has to close her eyes and practically whisper it. "Have you ever, okay, I bet you have, but, like, blowjobs?"

Jen covers her mouth so she isn't laughing in Joey's face which Joey appreciates. Then Jen says, "First of all, every blowjob should be reciprocated. If he tries to tell you he's not into that --"

"Then I owe, like, 30 of them," Joey says. "Maybe more."

Jen says, "I have never felt so much envy in possibly my entire life." 

Joey finally finds Dawson and gives him his brick. They are standing on his lawn, hours after she talked to Jen. Dawson nods. "Isn't this very illegal, Jo?"

"It's the thought that counts?" She smiles at him. 

"Have you seen anyone else?" 

"Just Bessie and Jen and Grams and then Jack, who sent me back here," she says. 

"Did they all ask you if you two had sex?"

Joey clenches her jaw. She now has Pacey's expressions, too, she thinks. "Grams certainly did, that lady is quite the Inquisition. There were bright lights in my face, and I think she was going to give me the old right hook if I didn't break."

Dawson doesn't even smile. He says, "Honestly, I don't want to know. I think the answer might kill me."

"It would kill you if I had sex with Pacey?" She is tempted to take the brick back so she can shove it in Dawson's face. "Then I guess you're dead and I'm talking to your corpse."

Dawson literally steps back from her and looks very hurt. She feels bad she keeps hurting him like this, but this time it is on him. He says, "Good to know."

"I'm sorry, but why does that news make you die? Because you can't get in there first?" She is getting livid. 

"It's not that," Dawson says. 

She takes a deep breath. She tries to see it from his side. Tries. She says, "Did you think you had a chance that I would dump Pacey and come back to you as your girlfriend now, but now that I've had my ride on Pacey's penis, I'm too dirty for you?"

"God, Joey, stop," Dawson says. "I don't think that. I just, I can't pretend I didn't hope that you would be miserable and you would break up with him and I know you, I know you wouldn't do that unless you were serious and in love. That's all. I didn't want to get in there first, except as much as I care about you and wanted us to experience that together. I absolutely don't think you're too dirty for me or anything like that in the slightest. I'm just sad, okay? Sorry my hyperbole about that offended you."

She deflates. "I'm sorry," she says. She hugs him and he's awkward in her arms. He relaxes a little. She says, "I'm sorry," again. 

She wakes up at 3 am when one of the guests goes to the bathroom. Loudly. Loudly to her, it doesn't sound like it woke anyone else up. She gets dressed quietly and takes the truck to drive to the boat. 

She didn't think this through. Pacey is likely at his home or Doug's. Except when she gets there, there are clear signs to her that the boat is occupied. She hopes it isn't a vagrant and is actually Pacey. She gets on and sure enough, there is Pacey, asleep on their bed. She knocks on the stairs to wake him up. He opens his eyes with a start. He says, "Jo?"

"No, a rampaging pirate. You can only escape my wrath by counting to ten in Portuguese."

He sits up and does so, perfectly. "Hi," she says, getting into bed. "Why aren't you sleeping in a bed?"

"Why aren't you?" He pulls her close and kisses her forehead. 

"Bessie rented out my room until Tuesday because apparently the B&B is financially successful," she says. "I was sleeping on the couch. but then one of the guests got up and did something gross in the bathroom."

"You hate that," he says. 

"I hate that," she says. She kisses him and gets under the covers. "Why are you here?"

"Kerry and her kids took my so-called room and the couch, and Gretchen took my place at Doug's. Gretchen, though, bless her running away from college heart, wants to see about getting a place together. With my non-existent money," Pacey says. They are snuggled together now. "How much is Bessie going to kill you when you're not there in the morning?"

"I left a note," she says. 

"Run off with pirates," he mumbles. 

"Be back soon," she says. 

"Maybe on Tuesday," he says in her ear.


End file.
